Another Lust... Gone to Dust! Off to Whirl-Y-Gig

Each week begins with thoughts and ideas of one sort and ends with outcomes of another!

It still surprises me how a passionate rendezvous burning with desire changes leaf through the following days and turns into sweet nothing in no time. The heated hours spent in Chuck's company had started a little flame in my soul; as exciting as it felt at the beginning, it occupied a little too much of my time thinking about it than I had previously cared to allow my emotions to run ahead of my controlled comfort zone. I kept asking myself what could be wrong with my free style of living? Do I want to check my phone to see if someone has texted me? Isn't my life exciting enough without attachment? There is a saying in my language that says... 'Don't wrap a head that is not aching with tissue'. Meaning don't bring unnecessary pain into your life when you can be free of it.
Hence, I happily accepted Alain and Romel's invite to the Arts Club last Tuesday and wrote to Chuck to cancel our dinner date for the following evening. To end it all, I also added my true thoughts, namely, 'things have already gone stale between us', wishing him joy in his new life here, followed by 'ciao'.  

Chuck did tell me from the beginning he's just come out of a long-term relationship, and I agreed with not wanting to go heavy anyway, but he also mentioned:
"Guess I'm where you were when you first separated."
And that made me think, 'Oh! Oh!' If he is going to do half the things I did when I first felt my total freedom, he will not have a second to spare! 

However, when the boys at dinner on Wednesday asked about my latest fling, I mentioned what I had done, and they insisted on me writing a brief text to Chuck, from whom I had obviously not heard since my remark. Being a little tipsy by then, a short text was sent.
One thing led to another, and Chuck eventually got in touch, confessing his confusion at my sudden outburst and once again getting my heart pumping with the thrill of our fun times when he asked to meet up if we were on the same plane.  
Of course, I answered, we were on the same jet plane, and another meeting was arranged for Sunday lunch.

Meanwhile... At Jane's dinner party on Thursday, I met her childhood friend Andrew, who told me about Whirl-Y-Gig, the spirit of community in a colourful carnival atmosphere, where he used to party many years ago and had purchased extra tickets to revisit the coming Saturday. Even Helma, another fantastic dinner guest that evening, who happened to live in my neighbourhood, got excited by hearing of the event and asked me to give her a full report when we next meet. I thanked Andrew for his kind invite and mentioned to let him know in the days to come.
Friday was lunch with Sergio and Kristel at Racine's French restaurant and dinner with Tila at Punch Bowl, the pub in Mayfair, best known for its owner, Guy Richie. After hearing about the pub, I finally made it there to think. Frankly, I hadn't missed much, not having been before.

Saturday was one of my busiest days (and nights) possible.  
Pilates at 11am. Walk in Battersea Park for an hour and a half, soaking in the winter sun. I met Jamie for a drink at Anglesea, where I bumped into Flavio and Salvator.
The evening was drinks at Claridges' to celebrate Niel's birthday with Rory and Shiba, followed by dinner at Kai's Michelin star Chinese restaurant in Mayfair. I had gathered my friends, who would be heading home after the food, so I left them to cab my way to SE1 and join in a short queue for ticket holders at the entrance of the converted church in Hackney. People had been waiting up to two and a half hours to purchase tickets to get in. Thanks to Andrew, my task was relatively easy. As I entered the colourful underground tunnel and was waiting to get my ticket, two guys walked past the other side of the barrier and, seeing their friend standing in front of me, got all excited. One of them shook his bottle of sweet shandy in the air, targeting it in a straight line first in my eyes and face, then on my hair, never mind my Joseph jacket! Luuuuvely starts. My eyes stang, my cheeks felt sticky, and my coat wet all over; I tried not to rub the mascara further to my new mask of shaken shandy and told their friend standing in front of me: 
"Who were those 'morans'?"  
The guy apologized, and Amelie stood by her friend 'the guy' and sweetly tried to explain that it was not he who did it but his friends.

I picked up the ticket left by Andrew and went in to join him and his friends inside. But I had to hand in my jacket and coat. While I waited patiently in the cloakroom queue, my turn finally came when the attendant informed me there were no more hangers and they could not take in more coats! What?!? Amelie stood behind me, and her friend (the guy) came to our rescue by persuading the attendant to take our coats and leave them in a black rubbish bag behind their counter. The night was saved, and I met eclectic, delightful groups of young regulars at the gig. 

The parachute covering the seated crowd 

Everyone was super friendly.
Andrew was a true gentleman in the way he looked after me without being intrusive in any way. His friends are charming.
Andrew's remark about how he was blown away by my character when we met brought a smile to my semi-sticky face.
I spent most of the night alone, in the outside smoking area, making more new friends!

At 5:30am, half an hour before closing time, a giant parachute spread throughout the hall while everyone sat on the floor underneath.
The colourful lighting enhanced the rather magical ambience.
The Fabric was moved from different corners of the room to spread the air of 'love' all around the atmosphere.

'The guy' whose friends were responsible for the earlier shandy incident came up to me to say Amelia was sitting at the front of the room, under the parachute with our coats and added: "Hope I made up a little for my friends' foolish behaviour."
Aaaaahh.  Now, that was sweet. I had washed my face and forgotten the incident by then. I rushed to get my coat from Amelie as soon as the music stopped and ran out of the place to find a taxi.

It was 6am. The dilemma was, should I go to Fabric (my Saturday hangout), where Ricardo Villalobos was bound to start playing his funky music or go home for some rest before my lunch date with Chuck that day? Decisions, decisions. Then again, I thought he had yet to text me the day before about our meeting, knowing from experience it likely would not happen. But even if I went to Fabric, I would get a few hours of sleep later in the morning and still make it to lunch late. As I have done so on many occasions.
My strong instinct got the better of me, and I hailed a cab and ordered:
"Fabric, please."

I arrived, told by Chris, the superb lighting director of room 1, that Ricardo had just begun playing. At my favourite table, I was greeted by the familiar faces of friends I had made there. Gabi and her flatmate were a bundle of fun to mingle with. Accompanied by Judes, we did some DJ booth, and by 8:30am, I decided to take the load off my Prada boots (big mistake to wear, but I had so many varied events to attend that evening) and retired on a small two-seater leather sofa in the staff smoking room. Every half hour, a newcomer took their seat next to me; we would chat, and they moved on to be replaced by another. The tall, good-looking 22-year-old Thierry landed next to me quickly. We began talking and having a few laughs; the naughty French boy asked me specific questions, which somewhat puzzled me. The room was getting busier as the morning went on, and more familiar faces showed up through the entrance. I was beginning to get concerned about finding a way to stand up on my tired legs and make my way home when Chuck's text said it was his turn to cancel and that he could not make our lunch date due to the flu.

Immensely relieved, I eventually stood up, declaring the time to go home. It was 10:15am, after all! As I left the basement room to go up the many stairs and fetch my coat to leave, I noticed Thierry standing behind me. Looking up at him, I asked whether he was leaving, and he mentioned being tired. So, in his native language, I questioned:
"Where are you going now?"
"Well, Haldita,"  he answered in that sweet French, "Going home with you!"
"Going home with me?!"  I exclaimed with a cheeky smile.
And on that note, we left the club.

Learning from experience makes me a wise woman.

Gratitude... Is My Attitude

This phrase by Byron was sent to me; it read...
'In solitude... Where we are least alone.'
Especially with a laptop at hand! Haha. But I do like that quote.

Time flies, and there are moments when there are definitely things no money can buy. Sure, love is the first, but once it's gone, it's done. Don't waste it on useless thoughts; ask the questions in your mind, try to understand why things happen the way they do, and react to them.
'Why am I here, and why is this happening to me?'
A very healthy question beats any diet. 
The most exciting part of my life has been accepting and loving myself.
Love Thyself, and you cannot possibly not love Thy Neighbour.

Let's get down to that busily-scheduled social diary of mine.
Last Thursday was the time to check out the flamenco festival at Sadler Wells Theatre. Accompanied by Aisha, we arrived at our aisle seat when I confessed:
"I'm starving, Aisha. Have you eaten?"
Of course, my friend, a fantastic cook who prepares food in her house any time you visit, answered: "Yes, Darling. I ate."
I said hello to the boys sitting next to me, and immediately, they offered me a handful of their Pistachio nuts! So I gave some to Aisha while she laughed and said:
"Only you arrive at a place hungry and get offered nuts before settling in your seat!"
I am lucky that way or super friendly. Haha
Aisha and I giggled throughout the dance when the male dancer twirled like a ballerina while the sweat flew out of his full head of hair. We had to duck in order not to get wet. The peasant-look coloured costumes, velvet-like, were rather dull; they sang opera at some stage, and it was not our cup of tea. At the end of the show, as we were leaving, there was a standing ovation from the entire house of spectators!  
The only reason the show was disappointing was that being big fans of the old-fashioned, colourful flamenco, we felt this version could have done it better. Oh well...

The night continued with Aisha and meeting with Romel at the private Arts Club bar. It was followed by joining other tables of friends in the basement club, but we only stayed briefly.

Friday was another story! Belma texted me in the morning to see whether I could join her at London Fashion Week in Somerset House. Mais, bien sure. (But, of course). Belma mentioned having worked with the designer in London when she lived here, and we went through the 'models' backstage to catch them in the mayhem of getting ready for the catwalk. I was so vowed by the whole scene that I forgot to take out my phone and take pictures. But here's what I did get.

 

The Turkish designer (damn, I took my ticket to note down the designer's name, but where have I put it in the mayhem of tickets and note papers etc., scattered on my dining table? I Guess I tried), he produced elegant garments in pale pink chiffon, with a floral lace headband which I absolutely loved.
But then again, I could not drift from the fact that if these girls looked more like women with natural bodies, how much sexier would those outfits have appeared?
I talked to a lovely girl sitting next to me who had to attend millions more fashion shows during the following days. It all began when a girl with an oversized coat hit us from the back row three times, walking up and down. The first time, I mentioned how selfish some people get. The second time around, I puffed, and the third time, I declared the word 'Bitch' when she repeated the action. In agreement, we laughed.  
The paparazzi were at work with celebrity figures sitting in the first row opposite us. Did I know who they were? Still trying to figure it out.

That evening, I needed to let my hair loose. So, I joined Ernest and Kelly to visit Sabrina at her new pub, 'The Birdcage'. The sound of karaoke was blasting its way to the outdoors, and we stayed for a couple of shandies when Ernest and I decided to walk to the private Shoreditch House in the area. We caught up on the news of the past days with a bellini at the outdoor roof terrace. Then we cab back to the pub to say our byes to Sabrina and pick up Kelly to end the evening with a drink at the Electric's private bar on Portobello Road.  
And that was just Friday!

Saturday... Oh dear. Shane accompanied me to Fabric with Eve, a bundle of fun, who was joining us after her DJ-playing at a club nearby. As we were moving dance floors to room 3, I was grabbed by a handsome man, who instantly began flirting with me.  
I asked him: "How come you've your coat on?"
He answered: "But I've just come in. Straight into your arms!"
I stared at his smiley face for a minute, then thought... 'Nah, can't be asked.'
Then, I made some excuse, freed myself from his arms, and ran out to join my friends.
Shane and Eve were ready to retire, and as we were about to leave, I bumped into Ricky, whom I last met at his after-party before Christmas, and he insisted I join his table. Never say no came to mind, and I stayed behind.  
The thrill of the morning was seeing Judes in the DJ booth room 1, where Sneak was playing. We continued dancing until 9am when the music finally stopped.

A few hours of sleep in the afternoon got me through the evening, meeting up with Belma, Ahu and three of their friends at Brinkley's for a bite. Syd, whom I have known and through other mutual friends, was always a pleasure to chat with. There was an introduction to Sherry and Serhat, with whom we giggled, talking about online dating. How much fun can a girl endure? haha

Monday evening was movie time with Conor. After a catching-up dinner at a local pub, we went to see The Artist, which I had heard so much about. The lack of sleep caught up with me again, and I managed to sleep through most of the film... Again!
Monday movies after Fabric is a no-no for me from now on. 

Wednesday was dinner at the private Arts Club, by Alain and Romel's invitation for Serge and Sergio's short visit to our city. I picked Kristel up on the way, joined by Aisha and Pedro; we spent an utterly super time dining, wining and having a few laughs. I made a new friend outside the smoking area when I saw a distressed girl beside us. She opened up to me as she was told off by one of her family members for smoking a cigarette. Her tears began to shed as she mentioned the stress over her mother's recent heart attack. I gave her a big hug with comforting words. Providing each other with love and support is essential when in need. We probably shall never meet again, or we may, but when a hug and a smile can bring joy to someone, why not give it away? 
Mousse arrived later to join us at the club downstairs, where the Motown Sisters performed live.  
For... I am a natural woooooman.  

Today was one of the warmest and sunniest February days I can recall in all my years living in London. In the morning, I rerouted my way to Battersea Park instead of my indoor pilates class and walked amongst the beauty of nature.
I had to clear my head and think about some emotional issues that arose during the week. It took me by surprise to feel like I did towards someone new in my life who excited me. And what did I do? 

To be followed... 

Everything happens for a reason

Everyone knows me for the sound of my laughter...
But my pillow, which only hears my silent cries.

I translated this from a writing I read today and thought how relevant it has been to how I have felt since the beginning of the new year. We all begin each year with resolutions and high dreams of a better year ahead, financially and otherwise. Yet, it becomes a disappointment when things begin to go wrong right from the start. I have had the most enchanting experiences, talking to many who have had to divert their paths to a brighter future by being more humble and understanding why life has become so complicated. Everything happens for a reason, is my belief. Dig deep, find out the cause, and then search for an effect to change your ways. It's a matter of win or lose. We all have choices.  

Now, back to my wildlife... Last Friday, after attending The Designer Wedding Show in Battersea Park and talking to some fantastic exhibitors with whom I had a laugh and got more enlightened in knowing them, the evening began with newly found companions at a Persian restaurant, followed by a visit to the Supperclub in Notting Hill where my dear friend Stan played some of his cool tunes to which I danced. A girl on the dance floor happily moved to the music as I was and kept talking to me and giving me a hug and kisses on the cheeks! So cute. Tila, Aroldo and Gabriella (visiting London) were my new buddies with whom we only left the club late.

Saturday night began early when Chuck paid me a visit at home. Our plans of going out were thrown to dust as we talked and got better acquainted through a magical chemistry between us. What made me roar with laughter was every time I tried to say something rather serious, Chuck would simply imply:
"Haldita, you're full o' Shit!"
It's funny how this sticks most to the mind out of everything we say!
Now, that was a first, and he did not mean it the way it sounded, but I got him as I replied the same back to him in amusement.  
Now, me... Full o' shi'? Don't think so.
Chuck moved to London recently and, having come out of a long-term relationship does not want to start another. He is a fun company, but I have realised that a more single life suits me best. A few friends with benefits would do nicely. My diary is chockablock anyway.

Coming to terms with life on my own, I also understood why my business partner Charlotte and I had to part ways. It was not an easy choice when there was so much to look forward to setting up our new profession for the past few months, but I am grateful for everything that has happened. God would have a partner if the partnership was meant to be, so I keep telling myself and that's a personal choice again.
When two people are on different paths, it becomes a chore to make oneself understood, and I cherish my freedom more than anything. I like to be me.

Sunday was mostly spent at home, working and mucking on my laptop, a favourite pastime. It was completed by drinks at the Anglesea Arms with Tila, Effie and a few others and dinner at Heidi and Berto's. It's a perfect way to end a week of very late nights!  

This week has begun with hard work on setting up my new website again. Practice makes perfect, they say, so it has been pure dedication and determination to start my new business with a positive start. Alongside all the experiences life has brought my way, I am confident I can make this a success. At my age, to start working to support my life for the first time is a task which I willingly take on board and can only get excited by the thought of such a massive step to climb. It's all in the head... I can, and I will.

The latest Novikov restaurant in the heart of Mayfair was revisited last night in the Italian section at a table of seven. Last week, four of us from the same group sat at the Asian side, where Tila's latest Chanel handbag got stolen from behind her chair. Who would have thought in a Shi shi restaurant, full of the most well-dressed crowd the city has to represent, such personal violence could occur? After the shock was absorbed, Tila handled the situation gracefully, and it did not dampen our mood. Life goes on.

This time, our group of four was extended to seven, and everything went smoothly; with all the loving hugs and kisses Aroldo sent my way and the pleasure Effie brought, chatting about life's finer things made it another night to remember fondly. Apart from one fact, it was Valentine's Day! The idea of a day for loving brings questioning to my relatively free way of thinking. I do not question those who enjoy this day's flattery, watching one waiter get the many balloons in a sizeable heart-shaped being brought to the dining area. At the same time, the other carried the massive vase of red roses to deliver to the table of a Russian couple next to us. But I also listened to the lady at the round dinner table constantly mention how she missed having love or a man in her life, and I am sure she was not the only one feeling those senses, especially on this particular day. All my words of consolation in the joy and freedom being alone can bring went straight over her head. Oh well, I tried.

Now, another day of hard work at home came to another pleasant end. I spent time in the company of Youssef, who invited me to dinner at Randall & Aubin's Soho seafood restaurant. He cheered me up immensely and dropped me home early to get to my beloved blog.

Why is it that some of us think the world owes them?! Life is about choices. I found this beautiful poem by the Persian poet Hafez on a Venezuelan friend's Facebook page. It read:
Even after all this time
The sun never says to the earth:
"You owe me." 
Look what happens with a love like that,
It lights up the whole sky

She wrote to me: 'Have a super Love day'.
I answered: 'I try to make every day a LOVE one'.

Lust is in the air...

Hey, the weather may be freezing our asses off outside, but my mind is stimulated by a conversation I had earlier with Chuck! More of that to come.

Right now, I keep going back to my trip to Bali. I met a friend of Roya's, Jay, at our favourite coffee shop, Bali Buddha, one afternoon (I won't mention a wet one! Weatherwise, of course). He had moved to Bali eleven years ago and lived alone in a house amid rice fields (so I was told). With the invention of a spray to freeze snakes, he was busy getting his new product into the outside market. When you have so much time on your hands, especially living alone, you get the chance to think a lot. The conversation turned into our perception of the word judgment.  
I was confirming that: "I try not to judge."
Jay interrupted me, saying: "This is the modern term bullshit people use and just a saying. Of course, we judge. We all do. But there's always good judgement."
I had to agree with him there. Of course, if I did not ultimately judge, I would have nothing to complain about when people behave in a way that hurts or upsets me. And actually, I do."  Don't we all?!
It is not gossiping but talking about your feelings and sentiments. But then, would I absolutely love and accept everyone the same way? I sure don't. My better judgement and trust in intuition tell me to avoid certain people with whom I have nothing in common or do not see eye to eye and try to resolve issues when they arise with the ones I do.

Last Thursday night, 2 February, I was invited by Jules and Gabi to the Roundhouse, a very excellent venue in Camden, to hear and dance to Nicolas Jaar Djaying.  Gabi was on stage, in charge of the video playing on a widescreen, above where this young, talented 21-year-old played some cool tunes on his 'Don't Break My Love Tour'. 
I floated joyously with Gabi's housemates in the VIP area; it was a fabulous entourage. The estimated three thousand crowd rocked it below on the massive dance floor till midnight, and then it was time to head home, driving through London's freezing cold, empty streets.

Friday evening was time for another one of my parties at home. For those who could not make it, the party continued with laughter and mingling of an old and new eclectic group of friends. I only managed to go to bed at 6am!  
When everyone informed me about the food, and I mentioned having partially made one of the dishes, a fried aubergine mixed with lentils and a special sauce, they knew I had done none of the fryings. Still, they simply directed Nolita, my long-term incredible saviour, to add the suitable mixes without me getting my hands dirty.  

By Saturday, any plans for dancing were out of the window. I gathered all the leftovers from the party and cabbed my way to Ernest's, where Donna, Torsten and his friends were chilling in good conversation. Nothing beats a good dialogue amongst like-minded people. The evening ended in the early morning hours, with a Karaoke session of four, whilst others left on that snowy winter's night. Can't believe I enjoyed it so much again.  

Monday was a working day at home. I had an appointment at 16:30 in the neighbourhood, and as I passed by the cinemas, I saw Carnage being shown at 17:00 hours. Spontaneously bought a ticket and sat to watch an afternoon movie. Something I had yet to do in years. A screenplay by Yasmina Reza was made into a film by Roman Polanski. I recalled Ms Reza's very thoughtful comedy 'Art' in the West End theatre, in which art and friendship intertwined, questioning the long-term relationship between the three dominant male characters of the play. Their 15-year relationship suffered considerable strain, considering Serge's indulgence in buying an expensive painting of a white canvas with white lines! 
'A piece of white shit', as Marc scornfully described it in the play.
Carnage was of a similar situation, filmed in one living room of the discussions between two couples after a fight between their eleven-year-old sons at school. Enjoyable enough to fill up my time on a cold February afternoon.

While the days have been questioning a new path I am taking, the evening gatherings of my loved ones made the shivering weather outdoors feel warm and enjoyable. I also had dinner with my Girl and Boy, which brought my joy to boiling point.


It has been a trying week. Starting with questioning the future and ending in the most positive of notes. More of that to follow ...

Another day... Another night

The January and February blues are all around. But a friend said earlier:
"This is the time for human hibernation, to reflect upon the year ahead and what is coming our way."

Good point. But oh boy...
The days are long, and the nights even longer
All I have to keep thinking is, 'I'm gonna get stronger!'

And on that note, Power of Positivity had a writing on a Nelson Mandela speech:
'Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate, but powerful beyond measure. We doubt ourselves instead of believing ourselves brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous. Don't shrink for others' insecurities, but shine in God's glory and liberate yourself from fear.'
Well, I shortened it in my wording. Be Positive. Be Brave.


Do not think that my positive thinking comes naturally. Oh! I am damned if I ever stop working at it. It keeps showing me the path to better living and thinking. It makes me a happier woman, and through my joy, all I want is for others to feel this way. It is all hit-and-miss. Some you hit. Others you miss. C'est la vie.
Hey, if you Keep doin' what you're doin', you'll get next to me (Bo & Ruth). 


I told my new friend, Alfredo, in a chat on Facebook that I never imagined our first meeting would lead to the great friendship that has developed.  
He said: 'Life's unpredictable.'
I then added: 'And I absolutely love that about life. The more positive you think and brave you are, the more it gives you.'
Alfredo agreed but continued: 'If my English was only better.'
And I: 'My dear, when I was in Venezuela last year, I spoke Spanish to everyone and told them... Hablo muey bien Espanol. And so they believed me and told me... Si, si. Muey bien. '
He reminded me: 'You're not shy, and you don't care what people can say about it.'
Me again: 'I really don't care. ' True. All you must do is believe in yourself, and others will follow. And your English is way better than my Spanish!'
Then, I remembered my trip to Venezuela with Hala. It was only last February, but time has passed quickly, yet it feels like it was ages ago! So much keeps happening.

I started writing this blog in a questioning mood. Then Soltan, my wonderful brother, called from abroad, and after a long chat, things started looking up. Then, I Skyped with the lovely Gabi, with whom, accompanied by Donna, we visited Fabric on Saturday night. As a result, I missed my all-day meditation course on Sunday but made it to lunch with Heidi! I also did something rather mad later that evening. I drove to Tottenham, which I first thought was in the North of England as opposed to North of London, to meet a tango teacher. My passion for tango became scarce when the older man offered to give me a massage naked in his bed! Que?!? Well, I looked somewhat exhausted from all the dancing and sleeping at 7am for three hours, but that was ridiculous! My shock was in such horror that I could not reply, and as he smiled and went towards his bedroom (to get naked, I presume!), I picked up my bag, got out the door fast, and drove home. Damn. How did that go so wrong?! Haha... 
My life seems increasingly like The Adventures of Priscilla!  


On an even naughtier note, I took these pictures in the Dubai Mall on my way back from Bali. Lora and I also visited Zuma's in Dubai on the one night I stayed there who would walk in to join us by the DJ stand, but the lovely DJ girlfriend of Lora's whom I had met and spent a beautiful afternoon by the sea with, on my previous visit. I actually really wanted to see her again. It was amazing that she came to Zuma's by chance!
Back to Dubai Mall, with its ice skating ring and colossal aquarium, the following wall was impressive, but...

Now... Don't you find this rather suggestive?!? Or is it my dirty mind?  
Haha

Now, a poem I felt like writing for my own pleasure.

Thinking back to an afternoon in Bali brought this to mind:

Sitting under the protection of a colourfully cushioned hut
Reflecting upon the world around me that's about to rut
Hearing the sound of the birds singing all around
The music of the raindrops on the leaves abound
The humidity of a gentle breeze blowing lightly against my skin
This is the time for my year's reflections to begin
In this heavenly surround, earth seems far from the mind
Perhaps it is best not to be harsh but to think very kind
It feels like the question-time is never-ending 
Intertwining roads, up and down, all enchanting.

Where am I going next?
I believe in nurturing the love
Flying high above as a helpless dove.
Yet these wings, at times, are too heavy and wet
The strength to move is much of a burden to set.
Set sail above the waves of an infuriating ocean
The danger is all around, but we must take caution.
Into the smoothness of dreams flowing through a mind
That is filled with a past and can sometimes be blind.
The time comes to finally change that thinking cap
Tear apart, free the soul from the shrinking wrap.
God is everywhere, in all we see as beauty
Happiness is what we deserve; this is our duty.
To put aside the worry and smile at the world
Allow the excitement of the future to unfold.

Life is good, and I am happy. Wish the same for you all. Night Night.